


A Different Timeline

by Duetronomy



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bittersweet Ending, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Marriage of Convenience, Multi, Possibly Unrequited Love, Temporarily Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:56:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28590633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duetronomy/pseuds/Duetronomy
Summary: The one that got away. Or did they? *revised*
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)/Original Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27





	A Different Timeline

For the first time in so long I am at peace. An open wound allowed to bleed. An old wound finally allowed to heal.

I stand in front of Dream in his living room and it feels like I can finally stop holding my breath. He smiles at me and the sorrow and regret in the pit of my stomach eases. This is what heaven feels like.

Oh what could have been.

_______________ 

We met in elementary school. 6 years old in first grade and nothing really mattered. It was the very 1st day of the new school year and Dream sat next to me. We would hardly ever talk in actuality, he could’ve gone somewhere far the very next day and I would have been none the wiser.

It was really in second grade, where Dream and I were lucky to be put in the same class again, that we forged the friendship that would last us the rest of our lives. The first day of second grade we talked about nothing notable. Just glad to see a familiar face. He'd look across the other kids and smile when he catches my eyes. He’d wave and sit next to me and we’d agree to be friends.

By 5th grade we were spending hours together outside of school. Riding bikes, playdates, video games. Whatever 10 year old boys did, we did together.

Middle school was interesting. I didn't have Dream by my side as much as I used to. We'd hug and pass each other in the halls. We’d still go over to each other’s house. I remember around that time how threatened I felt by all of Dream's new friends because they were so cool. Cooler than me. I feared he'd forget about me, start spending less time with me. That didn’t happen though.

We were as close as ever and for a long while it stayed that way. 

I could say all my problems sprouted when in 7th and 8th grade, touching Dream in any way started to feel different. It felt soft, uncomfortable, confusing. For a while I’d push it aside and wouldn't question why. 

Early highschool is truly when every little problem I feared would happen between us, happened. Except for one, that wouldn't happen until later.

If it wasn't Dream casually forgetting to text goodnight back, it was the iron hot jealousy of Dream getting girls attention, or the adamant denial of being gay, or Dream getting upset and confused that I didn't like any of his girlfriends, or even worse, boyfriends. He’d get annoyed and I wouldn’t reply for hours out of spite. We didn’t hang out very much freshman year.

Sophomore year of highschool was spent deep in thought at 3 in the morning. Alone and helpless and scared. Suddenly, being gay was a very real and very big deal. I’d realize that I wanted Dream to be mine and no one else’s and while I was able to tell Dream was my realization quite easy, the love confession somehow wasn’t as easy. 

I wasn't in denial enough to think I wasn't in love with Dream. I wanted him to be mine more than anything. More than I was able to handle admitting, apparently.

We'd talk through the nights again in Junior year. Somehow closer than we were before, We’d have sleepovers, sharing my bed and I'd delude myself in the fantasy that we were in love.

It was thoughts like "if he was into me he would've shown it by now" and "I need him to show me a sign, I can't risk our entire friendship on a hope" that made me never simply lay a hand on his arm or his waist. I'd stare at him as he slept. Yearning, working up the courage.

Then, and I remember how it felt so damn clearly, he rolled over and laid his arm over me. I blinked back the frustrated tears as I couldn’t tell if he was asleep or not.

Senior year, interestingly enough, was amazing. I felt on top of the world. Accepted into my ideal college (Where Dream unfortunately would not follow) and best of all, I took Dream to prom. It was more of a friend thing since for months until that point Dream had stopped dating. He asked me to prom and I accepted with no hesitation. Matching suits and everything. We danced the whole night away with friends we will hardly see again, dragging our tired feet back to my house at 2 in the morning. Stumbling, but trying to be quiet as he joked and laughed. He climbed into my bed with me and he’d put his hand on my thigh gently, suddenly nervous and I'd lose my virginity that night to the love of my life (his too but I didn't know that at the time).

He'd hold me close as we fell asleep.

Then we'd never really talk about it.

The highs were high and the lows were low.

Dream had to move to his college state shortly after and I'd only get a tight long hug before he left. I tried not to cry for the next few days but I couldn't get the tears off my eyes.

Unlike most highschool friends who would promise to keep in touch but eventually forget each other, Dream and I texted every single day. Much to my delight.

In all honesty, I hardly made any friends in college. I wasn't anywhere near as social and life itself (other than Dream of course) had become dull.

Spring break was finally a school break where I could part with my family and see Dream in person for the first time in months and Dream was so excited. I was so blissfully unaware of what that trip was gonna do to me. My heart still aches even now, remembering it all.

I wanted some excitement and control in my life again. I decided that on that visit I'd ask Dream to be my boyfriend. Throwing all caution to the wind finally. I'd decided to do it at the end of the trip to save myself the most embarrassment.

I'd never come to carry out that plan.

On the fourth day of my visit my world crashed to my feet when Dream introduced his boyfriend to me. A british guy named George who I hated with every fiber in my body. 

Dream dragged us to a cafe for brunch and he’d talk on and on about George like he was light itself.

George was cool in a quiet way. He was friendly and reserved at the same time. He was pretty and smart. But the reason I hated him was because of how in love Dream looked when they looked at eachother. 

It hurt more to realize that I could remember times when Dream looked at me like that. On prom night.

Please no no no.

But I didn't show it. When Dream would rapidly look between us, clearly looking for signs that I support them, I bucked the fuck up and put the biggest most stupidest smile on my face and played nice. For Dream.

It sent me into a weird spiral. Was it too late or did I really have no chance at all? Did I ever? Did I read this all wrong? If I had acted sooner, would Dream even have acknowledged George? Or even in that world where Dream and I were happy together, would he have left me for George anyhow? Did I simply not live in the timeline where Dream and I were meant to be?

I remember staring at the ceiling while in bed that night as I cried silently heartbroken.

It was the first time Dream ever really made me cry and it wouldn't be the last time.

I hate to admit it but everytime Dream texted me about any little thing about George he wasn't kinda happy about, I'd cross my fingers and hope they'd break up.

I'd beg god to break them apart. For them to hate each other. For George to be an awful person.

But with every passing year I realized that became less and less likely. I would deny my growing horror with every passing year.

I couldn't bring myself to try and move on. I couldn't stomach the idea of a relationship or a hookup. No matter how handsome or funny, no one could compare. It was rushed relationship after relationship, breakup after breakup. The constant compare and contrast. I’d fantasize every person who ended up in my bed was Dream.

I absolutely trembled when George and Dream got engaged. I called Dream and congratulated him with a sense of dread making me nauseous. 

Dream's wedding came far too fast. A night I'd remember for the rest of my life for all the wrong reasons.

It was an indoor summer wedding. It was decently sized. Nothing extravagant. Full of carnations, calla lilies and hydrangeas . Glossy wooden floor and a breezy room with a small semi circle stage.

I was his best man because of course I was. I practically got a super front row seat to my heart's execution. I watched as Dream tearfully told George how he’d love to spend the rest of his life with him and how he couldn’t imagine him spending it with anyone else. I left a single tear roll down my cheek simply because I could get away with it. I’d watch them kiss as everyone aww’d. I smiled for the pictures and when I felt it was safe to do so I slipped out and walked down the main dirt-like road through the open field outside. Just for some air but also because I felt like throwing up. I always hated how long weddings were.

The sound of Dream saying "I do" replayed in my head as I clutched my bedsheets and silently screamed as my tears burned my eyes and irritated my skin. It was such an irrational mental and emotional pain. I've never cried harder. It wasn’t the first time I’d mentally berate myself. For still being in love fruitlessly, for still being so affected, for not being able to simply be Happy for Dream. I was an awful friend.

That wedding was truly the day all my hope died. It was all just so different afterwards. The sadness I was so used to carrying solidified into this numbness.

I started dating people for a few years, simply rolling with the punches. I had a girlfriend for a while who I didn't feel attracted to at all. She eventually left because she caught onto that. I was honestly hardly trying, if at all. No one could compare to what Dream and I had. No one could outshine him.

I eventually met the woman who I would end up marrying. She was slightly older than me and had a toddler son. It was the instant family I was looking for and I was the extra support she was looking for. Things simply fell into place after that. Satisfied, we would get engaged only after a year of dating. 

It was around my engagement that Dream adopted his son. I was happy for them. No really, I was. He would come over, fawning over the one year old, wanting me to hold him. 

"Aye look at us" Dream would say. Yeah. Look at us. Married with children. How picture perfect.

We'd get married and she'd never ask why we'd never have sex. I think she knew more than she or I led on. I never came to love her romantically but she was my chosen life partner and the mother of my child even if he isn't my blood. 

The wedding was really only a ceremony. Short. Mid-November. Family and close friends.

Dream would go on to adopt a little girl and he deemed his family complete. He'd look around him and smile. I’d be happy for him.

Many many years later and my son goes off to college and sometimes forgets to call. We're all old. You blink and life goes by and you'd wonder how you got here. My wife passes from cancer and Dream comforts me.

George passes a decade later. He passed naturally from old age.  
Dream was inconsolable. Completely and utterly devastated and I let him lean on me as I rubbed his back. It took four years to Dream to no longer tear up at his name and I was there for him every time he did because of course I was.

One day a handle of years after that, who counts anymore, Dream and I sit in his kitchen. We just sit and exist and think and talk of nothing in particular. 

It simply comes out of me and I don't stop it. I tell him I was in love with him for a long time but I don't tell him that I've been gay this whole time not bi. I don't tell him that my marriage was a mirage. I didn't tell him that for a long while I hated George. I don’t tell him how much it all really hurt. I don’t tell him how I planned to confess all those years ago during spring break in college. I don’t tell him how much I’ll always cherish prom night.

And for the while the kitchen is full of silence. 

I didn't expect anything to come from the confession. At this point of my life it was simply a fact I had never shared. A part of me I had learned to live with for most my life. If anything, I expected and welcomed anger.

Dream stares and me for a second then puts his hand over mine. 

"Do you.... wanna go lay down?" Dream asks me with an unreadable expression on his face but by the way he's holding my hand I assume he means together.

He takes me to the guest room (It didn't feel right to lay in George's bed which Dream shared) and he'd lay in the bed with me. Spooning me and laying his head against my back. Arms tight around my stomach.

I think of saying all the words that came too late but the silence is comforting. I deeply exhale.

"I loved George. I still do. But there were times I wondered 'what if?'" Dream says in almost a whisper.

...

"If I had made a move before George did, would you have married me instead?" I ask, knowing it was a lot to sum up to such a simple hypothetical train of events.

"I don't see why I wouldn't have. I wouldn't have cheated on you with George. You would've been the only love I ever knew. Ever would have known."

My heart throbs. In another timeline things would have been so goddamn different.

We lay there for a long while and things were… different afterwards.

It's hard to "move on" when the person you spent your married life with dies. Especially when you actually loved them. My son had been out of the house for decades at this point so I spent most of my day to day life with Dream, like I used to as a kid.

It was innocent really, just two widows living together for companies sake. Until one day Dream hesitantly opened the door to the guest bedroom which had turned into my bedroom at that point and simply looked at me for a second.

"Do you mind if I sleep in here?" He asks softly.

"Go on"

We really do just sleep. 

Eventually Dream starts meeting my gaze every now and again and I don’t know if it’s old age or a lack of caring but I kiss him. Softly, on the couch. He kisses me back and it is euphoric.

I propose to him very quickly because as much as I could live like this forever, we are old and time is not on our side.

Oh how different things could have been. I’ll never forgive myself for waiting so long when I had all the time in the world.

_______________

Dream holds my hands as he says "I do" with nothing but fond love in his eyes.

When I say "I do" I look at Dream's wrinkled face and think about what could have been how long it took to get here.

I will thoroughly enjoy these next years of my life full of love and joy and be grateful I got it later than never at all.

I kiss my now husband.

No matter how short the time we might have left may be. This love was always meant for me.

**Author's Note:**

> Would you believe me if I said that was a reenactment of a life I had in Bitlife that got me highkey emotional lol-
> 
> Also I love Katy Perry's "The One that got Away" and Novo Amor's music.
> 
> This is also prolly the saddest/bittersweet thing I'll ever right. This really isn't my usual thing I'm rarely down for angst that isn't really hurt/comfort.
> 
> In my BitLife my bestfriend died a year after our engagement but my heart deadass couldn't have handled that bc I legit almost cried so I continued after what would have been Dream's death.


End file.
